My Buddy Sam

Good FriendsThis is a story about childhood and friendship. Do you remember a good friend that you had in your younger days? Do you still keep in touch with him? Maybe this story will bring back some memories for you…

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I first met him during my elementary school. We were around twelve years old or something like that. He was lean and tall. His arms and legs were slightly muscular for his age. His skin was tanned with a shade that said he’s probably seen a lot of outdoors in his life. His soft brown eyes were kindly but deep. When he looked at you, you could almost feel him looking into your soul, but with curiosity, neither with judgment nor with the penetrating depth that would make you feel uncomfortable. He wore a slightly faded grey t-shirt and a pair of old blue jeans that had frayed at the bottom. He had on a pair of shoes in which his left toe poked out.

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A Dollar or Loose Change?

As I was walking home the other day, I saw an old woman sitting by the pavement. Her clothes were worn and stained. Her face was smudged with dirt and her lips dry. Her white hair was matted and plastered to her scalp, it must have not seen washing for a long, long time. She was sitting on a pile of worn, flattened carton box. She looked kindly but her expression had a worn, tired and rejected look.

As each person walked passed her, she would held out her frail shaking hands and pleaded, “Some money for food, please?” Most people walked pass her in disgust. Some would put some small change into her outstretched hands. When she saw the shillings she would smile and bowed her head, “Thank you sir.”

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